Shadows
by MomoMouat97
Summary: Will really, really hates Shadow-traveling. It just isn't healthy for Nico. Oneshot of the effects of transporting the Athena Parthenon had on Nico during BOO. Budding Solangelo.


"Will, come quick! There's an emergency!"

Will Solace jolted awake with a start in bed, sitting bolt upright and throwing the covers off of his legs as soon as the first knock pounded on his cabin door. He could hear running footsteps fading in the distance as he leapt out of bed. It only took seconds to yank a shirt over his head while carelessly shoving his feet into his unlaced high-tops, and then he pulled the door open and rushed out.

He'd been at Camp Half-Blood for more years than he could remember, and had worked as a healer for almost as long. As soon as his father, Lord Apollo, had claimed him as his own, he had worked on studying up on his medicine. It had always fascinated him, and with his godly abilities healing was a cinch.

The first Great War that he had lived through had served to fine tune his abilities at a higher level than any of his surviving bunkmates. Michael Yew – his heart gave a weak pang at the thought of him – was the best, before him. Will had to grow into that role over the past year. Now, he was the go-to guy for the worst types of injuries – he had seen them all.

Literally – all of them.

The wind blew his tangled hair away from his face as Will hurried down the path towards where the commotion was. Several other demigods joined him as he flew up the main hill, hearing shouts for help growing louder and louder. His breath came in ragged pants as his legs blurred beneath him, pumped full of adrenaline.

He wondered what it could be this time. Capture the Flag wasn't scheduled until Friday, and the woods weren't even in this direction. Distractedly, he pushed his questions away. The doctor in him knew that it wasn't the time to be curious. Somebody needed his help – and from the sound of it, desperately.

As he neared the top of the hill, he caught sight of a small group of people, all crowding around someone – or something. Their worried voices stacked on top of one another, and it was impossible to understand a single word of what they were saying.

"Alright, move, move – make way, people!" Will cupped his hands around his mouth, gesturing for them to make a space for him. "I need to see what's going on."

His steps slowed as the crowd started to part, and he was able to start to push through the clump of bodies. Many of them were clad in armor sets, or at least partial sets – the threat of the Romans was leaving everybody worried and tense.

Most of the demigods also carried weapons.

As he got closer, he could see a girl with long black hair tied back into a plait, kneeling over somebody crumpled in a heap on the ground. Strangely, the closer that he got to them, the colder the air seemed to become. It was almost like stepping into the middle of a deep freezer. Will felt the hairs on his arms start to stick up, and his breath showed up opaque against the air on his next exhale.

Strange…

"Please, you have to help!" The girl seemed to have sensed Will's approach before he got there, and her head snapped up to meet his eyes. They were startling black, which contrasted sharply with her purple shirt – his dyslexic eyes couldn't even begin to decipher the writing on the front of it – under strikingly gold armor. "We're losing him!"

Will almost opened his mouth to ask her _who-in-the-name-of-Zeus-are-you_ , but managed to contain himself. "We're not losing anybody today – but out of curiosity, who are you talking about?"

"Nico!" The girl moved back enough so that Will could get a good look at the small son of Hades, his crumpled form seeming to flicker in nonexistent shadows. His eyes widened. It had been a long time since he had seen somebody as close to death as this, and it brought back some terrible memories from the War.

With a doctor's detail-oriented eyes, he took in Nico diAngelo, noting everything from his obvious (and extreme – gods, when was the last time this kid had a meal?) weight loss to his rats nest of a hairdo. He looked like he had been living in the wilds for months, and even though there was a thick layer of dirt covering his entire body, he was so pale that it seemed to go right through him.

In fact, he appeared to be transparent, blurring around the edges and fuzzy in the center. It was almost like a bad projection – off of one of those machines that cheap public schools used in classrooms.

Will's whole body cringed at the sight of him. It was horrifying to see.

He looked back at the girl, and his tone was accusatory when he spoke out. "Who are you, and what did you do to Nico diAngelo?"

Her eyes hardened to the likes of solid steel. Will had to force himself not to take a step back in unease, but many of the campers did not have his self-control. "My name is Reyna Avila Ramirez-Arellano – and I would watch your accusations if I were you. Now, save Nico!"

"I can't save him until I know what you've done to him," Will hissed at her, gesturing at one of his siblings to pass him a medical kit. He quickly flipped it open, dropping to his knees and yanking out a stethoscope. "So, are you going to talk, or what?"

"I haven't done anything to him! He did this – the strain of shadow-traveling was too much for him!"

Will swore, dropping the scope down into the grass. It landed with a dull _thunk_!

Shadow-traveling. It was one of the most dangerous things that a child of Hades could do. It was a good way to transport humans, but in large doses it could be deadly. In order to use the shadows as a sort of railway system, one had to allow themselves to unbond and become loosely held together by only thin threads.

If their self-control wasn't absolutely perfect and refined, they could literally dissolve into the shadows – into nothing.

His hand came up to feel Nico's forehead in the next second, and he flinched. It was like he had just dunked his whole arm into a bucket of ice cold water – but at the same time, it burned like hot coals. Nico's whole body seemed to be at war with itself, his lungs unable to take in more than a few rasps of air every few seconds.

He felt sick at the change he was seeing in the person that had left Camp Half-Blood not too long ago. Sure, he hadn't always had great color, and he had always been a little skinny – but that was nothing compared to how he looked now. If Will had seen him on the street, he would have assumed that he was anorexic or something.

This wasn't good. This wasn't good at all. He had to stop Nico from dissolving before it was too late.

"What in the name of Hera was he transporting?" Will asked her, not taking his eyes off of Nico's bone-white face. It was almost comical how little color he possessed – but Will certainly wasn't laughing.

It wasn't the girl – Reyna – who answered. "Something huge and top-secret, cupcake!"

Will flicked his eyes to Coach Hedge, surprised to see him there. Last he'd heard, he was headed to New Rome with Annabeth and her friends to get Percy back. He had no idea how or why he was here, at Camp Half-Blood, here and now. "Coach Hedge!"

"I would love to stay and talk, cupcake, but I have a wife and baby I'd like to meet!" The satyr didn't wait for Will's response, trotting off down the hill to the bemusement of the campers surrounding him. The satyr had always been odd and random like that – not to mention violent.

He did have a pregnant wife who was about to give birth at any minute – and so Will decided to just let him go without further interrogation. He just rolled his eyes.

"Typical – and distracting."

He placed two fingers at the apex of Nico's throat, feeling around for a heartbeat. For a fleeting moment, he found none – and then his fingertips picked up the faint, fluttering mess of a pulse.

Will's shoulders sagged in relief. "I have a pulse. It's thready – but it's there."

Reyna seemed to relax monumentally. Her head bowed down, and Will could just barely hear her muttering to herself. It wasn't a language that he recognized, but it seemed vaguely familiar to the Ancient Greek that he spoke every day.

Will uncorked a fresh bottle of Nectar, propping up the son of Hades' head enough to trickle a little amount of it inside his mouth. As he rubbed the front of Nico's throat to make him swallow, Will began to hum a prayer to his father, aiming to speed up the recovery.

Slowly, a tinge of color emerged in Nico's pale face, and his form stopped flickering as if it were about to dissolve into the ground any moment. The air around him started to rise in temperature, and steam rose off of the grass.

His entire body sagged in exhaustion as Will thrust as much energy as he could muster into his healing charms, sensing just how close to death Nico truly was. Another few moments, and he might not have made it.

Knowing that he couldn't stand by himself, Will called over several of his cabinmates. "Take Nico to the sick bay – give him a few more sips of Nectar and some warming blankets. We need to draw him back to life – but slowly. Too quick, and he'll combust."

They carefully loaded the unconscious – but now clearly alive – boy onto a magically conjured stretcher. It was a little difficult to maneuver around the crowds of curious demigods, but they managed to make it down the hill and to the path that led to the infirmary.

Will brushed a few sweaty locks of hair out of his eyes, utilizing the last of his strength to just remain kneeling. "I always forget how much my healing takes out of me until I have to use it again."

"Is Nico going to be alright?" Reyna's stormy eyes bored into his, narrowed with distrust. He scowled at her, rolling his eyes as he tilted his head to crack his shoulders.

"He'll be fine in a few days. Relax – there's a reason that I'm labeled as Head Healer of the camp."

She seemed to be slightly placated. "Oh. I didn't know that."

"Yeah."

An awkward silence fell over them while Will positioned himself to put his head between his legs, allowing for maximum blood flow. He knew that if he didn't, and then tried to get up, he could pass out and not wake up for weeks. The power of healing was very draining when used in life-or-death situations, but Will wouldn't trade it for anything.

After some time, Will saw a hand being offered in front of him, and his head snapped up to find Reyna standing before him. He hesitated before accepting it, allowing her to pull him to his feet on Half-Blood Hill.

"Thanks," He mumbled, brushing his bare legs off. His joints protested as they elongated, having been squished for quite some time.

"I – uh, need to speak with somebody in charge," Reyna bit her lip, looking around curiously. "I bring news of Rome."

Will's eyes widened. "Uh, yeah – of course. I can take you to see Chiron. He'll know what to do."

He wondered what news this stranger had for the camp. They had sort of been in the dark since Annabeth took off with the others, just waiting with bated breath for either a message, or an attack. There had been whispers of Tartarus around camp at some point – but Will never was a gossiper. He always had better things to occupy his mind with.

Like healing.

"That would be helpful – and, thanks…for saving Nico."

"Just doing my job."


End file.
